


Sunrise

by elesssar



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, but still pretty fluffy, with serious undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:07:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elesssar/pseuds/elesssar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot for Kiliel Week; Prompt one: Domestic</p>
<p>Tauriel and Kili see in the sunrise together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunrise

Tauriel can appreciate the beauty of mornings. The soft pink of the sky, the sensual stillness; the day taking its first deep breath after farewelling the moon and the stars. But it is the farewell that Tauriel likes less – she could happily live in a world of eternal night, if it meant that she never had to say goodbye to the stars.

In recent years, however, she has come to see mornings in a new light.

Kili has always loved morning. They hold a promise: of new adventures, of new possibilities, of happiness. Everything that is scary about the night is nothing more than a flicker of shadow like the sun behind the cloud during the long daylight hours. Perhaps his differentiation of the sunlight and lack of is unusual for a dwarf – but he was born on the road, and in his life he has travelled more the most, and maybe he is not as at home in the depths of the mountain as his kin.

He awakes with the dawn, and lies on the edge of the hill, under a thick blanket that they had brought with them the night before, and watches the sun pierce the dark blue sky with the first bright smear of daylight. To him, it is beautiful.

Tauriel, lying beside him, awakes with the earth. The grass rejuvenates, sensing the sun that is soon to pour down upon it, and so she wakes as they do, and stares into the sky. Beside her, she can tell that Kili also is awake – his breathing is lighter than it is when he sleeps. They watch the dawn together, silently and without acknowledgement. However, before the last streaks pink have faded from the sky, Tauriel turns to him.

Her lover, her husband (and how that word lights a fire in her heart) is still staring up at the sky, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted as he breathes. She drinks him in.

“Why do you always stare at me in the morning?” Kili asks suddenly, startling her. He turns toward her, eyes crinkled and smiling, “and don’t say you don’t, because you do.”

“I don’t stare at you _every_ morning,” Tauriel says, flustered in her defence.

“Yes you do,” Kili says, and rolls closer to her. His shoulder collides against hers and his knee brushes her hip. As a part of his natural momentum, his arm falls across her waist and pulls her closer towards him. Nose to nose he kisses her, just once. This is their morning routine.

“You love the sunrise,” Tauriel says to him quietly, her voice soft in his ear, “it makes you happy. I watch you because your happiness is my ... my only joy.”

“Please don’t say that,” Kili begs, and he kisses her forehead and her nose and the peak of both her cheekbones.

“But I have to say it, Kili, it’s true,” Tauriel says, and her eyes are closed so he kisses her eyelids, too.

“I miss them,” she continues, “I miss Legolas and Thranduil, I miss the forest and everything in it. It’s my home Kili, and they’re my family.”

“Some family they are,” Kili says, laying his cheek against hers. His breath warms her neck, and she holds him tight because if she doesn’t she will break.

“They may have wronged me but, my love, in their eyes I have wronged them. You understand this,”

“I do,” Kili sighs, “but my understanding it doesn’t mean I like it.”

“I know,” Tauriel says.

They lay there together, saying and doing nothing but holding each other as the sun slowly climbs in the sky. To Tauriel, this love, these habits, this _domesticity_ , is finite. She knows it will end and she will go on, but then she also knows that, when this is all over and she is left with nothing, she may not want to go on.

And to Kili, Tauriel is everything, but not all. His family still speak to him. He doesn’t fear that she will leave him – she will always be his, until the day he dies, but he fears for her pain when the inevitable day comes, because through choosing him she has lost everything. It is selfish, he knows, but he is grateful that she has.

“We should go home,” Tauriel says eventually, “we have to prepare the house for your mothers visit.”

“Are you going to make me clean again?” Kili groans, and Tauriel laughs.

“Since I don’t trust you to do the cooking, _yes_.”

Sighing theatrically, Kili rolls away, sitting up and stretching. Tauriel stands in one fluid motion, folding the blanket and tucking it under her arm so that she call pull Kili to his feet. She pulls too hard deliberately so that he stumbles forward into her arms and, giggling merrily, she seizes his face with both hands and kisses him hungrily.

“We should,” Kili says between kisses, “probably wait,” his protests are half hearted, “until we get home,” his hands are tangled in her hair, “before we do this.”

“I thought you didn’t want to clean?” Tauriel says, pulling away and tilting her head to one side. Her eyes are glimmering with mischief, “the longer we stay out here, the longer you can avoid doing the cleaning.”

“Fair point,” Kili says, and pulls her back down to his mouth, “besides,” he says after a moment, “this grass is far comfier than that bed anyway.”


End file.
